According to Hercule Poirot, Christmas is a natural time for murder
Family members gather from afar. Personalities clash. People bring up past offenses. Tensions run high. Should we be surprised when all this tinder catches fire? No, says the logical Belgian.
In this book, we have a houseful of family members, and it seems that one of them has murdered the patriarch. This man is not nice. We are not sad when he dies. Simeon Lee, the head of the family, takes perverse pleasure in causing his family members distress. He’s never displayed high moral character—shady business dealings, extramarital affairs, etc. Now, it’s come back to bite him. To end him.
The trope of the Evil Parent is something that I’ve seen before in Agatha Christie. It’s also similar to the setup in Knives Out.
But who did it? It’s a locked-door murder, and everyone in the house is a suspect. Who stood to benefit from the old man’s death? Who hated him the most?
To solve this one, Hercule Poirot decides to take a close look at Simeon Lee himself, insisting that the character of the deceased often leads directly to the murderer.
There are red herrings and other deceptions that keep this book moving along. In my opinion, this is one of Agatha Christie’s stronger novels. It serves up just what I hoped it would, including justice.
My only complaint is that I wish there were more Christmas-y trappings to make it more of a seasonal read.
I loved Bleak House, but I think I just might love this one more. This book is about what it means to be truly free and happy.
Amy Dorrit was born in the Marshalsea prison for debt. Her father was once a prosperous gentleman, but now he’s imprisoned for life. Amy, the youngest and smallest of her siblings, quietly and devotedly manages things so they can all survive.
One day, when Amy is 21, a 40-year-old man named Arthur Clennam comes on the scene, and he’s a friend to her and her family. He plays a key role in making a discovery that leads them out of the Marshalsea and restores all their former fortune and then some. The Dorrits go from a literal prison to a metaphorical one (London high society). Meanwhile, Clennam falls upon hard times and there’s a reversal of fortunes. But wait, there’s another twist.
Amy and Arthur’s story is just one fraction of the book. There is a huge cast of characters who are all trying to break free from something. What does it mean to be truly free in body, mind and soul? Some characters are imprisoned by expectations, by guilt, by vice, by emotion (romantic love in particular). It is so beautifully rendered and woven together. It’s far too complex to write about here, but I thoroughly enjoyed steeping in this theme for a month.
As is always the case with Charles Dickens, his antidote is Christian love. Even though Dickens was a flawed man who made a lot of mistakes, he writes so clearly about the power of Christian morals and ethics to bring true freedom and happiness.
I highly recommend the audiobook narrated by Juliet Stevenson. I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed it half so much if I’d read it in print. I also highly recommend watching the BBC miniseries first, as it’s shockingly faithful to the original.
Now, some quotes:
Regarding Mrs. Clennam: Verily, verily, travellers have seen many monstrous idols in many countries; but no human eyes have ever seen more daring, gross, and shocking images of the Divine nature than we creatures of the dust make in our own likenesses, of our own bad passions. Ch. 30
Regarding Arthur and Amy: Looking back upon his own poor story, she was its vanishing-point. Every thing in its perspective led to her innocent figure. He had travelled thousands of miles towards it; previous unquiet hopes and doubts had worked themselves out before it; it was the centre of the interest of his life; it was the termination of everything that was good and pleasant in it; beyond, there was nothing but mere waste and darkened sky. Ch 27
For we all know how we all deceive ourselves—that is to say, how people in general, our profounder selves excepted, deceive themselves—as to motives of action. Ch. 13
Be so good as to say nothing that goes beyond what is said among us. If you keep within our bounds, you cannot well be wrong. Ch. 8
It is enough that she was inspired to be something which was not what the rest were, and to be that something, different and laborious, for the sake of the rest. Inspired? Yes. Shall we speak of the inspiration of a poet or a priest, and not of the heart impelled by love and self-devotion to the lowliest work in the lowliest way of life! Ch. 7
Crushed at first by his imprisonment, he had soon found a dull relief in it. He was under lock and key; but the lock and key that kept him in, kept numbers of his troubles out. If he had been a man with strength of purpose to face those troubles and fight them, he might have broken the net that held him, or broken his heart; but being what he was, he languidly slipped into this smooth descent, and never more took one step upward. Ch. 6
You could shelve this under Christian fiction, but it wouldn’t exactly fit in with its peers there. This is a coming-of-age novel set in the ’60s. Frank, a 13-year-old boy, must come to grips with several tragedies that happen over the course of one life-changing summer. His father is a pastor, but his mother is barely a believer, and Frank must decide what he thinks about God.
Because Frank’s father is the pastor of a small town, and because the book deals with a series of tragic events, many of the characters question God, reach out to God, and fall on the mercy of God. I appreciate how beautifully this is done. Kreuger deals with this honestly, but (spoiler) the verdict falls in favor of Jesus Christ and his grace. It’s rare to find this in a dude book, and this is most definitely a dude book. Think Leif Enger.
It’s hard to discuss the plot without spoiling it. Kreuger said in an interview in the after-matter of the audiobook that he wanted to write a novel that didn’t follow the tight mystery plot pattern that he uses in his Cork O’Connor series—I’ve only read the first one in that series, and it’s good (if gritty). So, this book has a mystery element, but it’s not a classic mystery. It’s more open and fluid. Frank encounters a loss of innocence, and he must figure out how to move forward in a world where bad things happen to good people and where we can’t simply run away from our problems—because sometimes our problem is “who we are” and we can’t run from who we are.
One of the best things about this book is the wide range of men that Frank is exposed to. You’ve got bullies, drunks, wifebeaters, rich guys, preachers, homosexuals, loners, and artists—and Frank realizes that there’s more to each of these men than the stereotypes they portray to the world.
I did feel like the plot was a tad predictable. I didn’t gasp at any twists. And I felt like the characters were a tad slow to figure things out. But, the book isn’t about the plot. It’s about Frank and his family, and it’s good to know that going in.
What’s the deal with Agatha Christie and train murders?
This one was fun! I love how Hercule Poirot books include similar elements, yet they all unfold somewhat differently—always with Poirot’s big reveal at the end. This isn’t on Agatha Christie’s top shelf of best books, but it might be on the second shelf down. I thought it was a jolly good time.
This one starts with a series of character intros, setting all the pieces on the chessboard. Then, crime most foul is committed. Even though the title mentions the blue train, this isn’t a locked-door mystery like Orient Express. It’s much more fluid than that, with characters coming and going to and fro in different settings. That may appeal to some readers who get claustrophobic in tight literary spaces.
There were a lot of characters coming and going, and I will say that I did get them confused from time to time listening on audio. But the cast size isn’t bigger than your average Poirot book.
I will say that I had a lot of theories about “who did it,” but none of them were right. I can’t be sure, but I believe this book may reference other Poirot mysteries, as the Belgian detective reconnects with several of his past contacts. If that’s true, then Christie buffs may have an advantage in solving the case, but, on my own, I was way off.
Beautifully written detective novel with a stiff upper lip
This detective story from the early 20th century is not cozy. Not hard-boiled, either. It’s old-fashioned, but not theatrical.
The centerpiece is detective Alan Grant of Scotland Yard. He’s young, handsome, and not like a police officer at all. He’s not what you’d call a “character” in the same way that Poirot, Wimsey, Marple, and Holmes are characters with distinctive quirks and traits—sometimes unbelievable ones. Grant is vanilla in comparison.
This book is beautifully written, with a lot of attention to detail and emotional nuance. But, as far as character and plot, it was just okay. I did get a little bored, truth be told.
The inciting incident is fantastic. A queue of people is waiting outside a London theater to see the final performance of a beloved London actress before she departs for America. I imagine it to feel something like waiting for a Disneyland parade to start. People are squished up next to each other. Vendors are selling stuff. Street performers are doing their thing. When the line finally starts to move, a man drops to the ground. He’s been knifed through the heart! In plain sight of all those people?!?
From there, things proceed in a relatively unremarkable way. Grant is polite and logical, and he collects clues that all point to a certain suspect, yet, in his gut (he calls it his imagination) he doesn’t believe the man is guilty. He’s got lots of proof that points to this guy, but he finds himself with a (rather womanlike) gut feeling…can he find proof that this guy isn’t the murderer?
This is all good, but the execution could’ve been more exciting for my taste. I enjoy detective stories with lots of color. I don’t want to say anything about the outcome because I don’t want to spoil anything, but I do have opinions about how it wrapped up. I guess that’s better than NO opinions, right?
More twists and turns than a cinnamon roll, and a masterpiece of suspense
This book has the “train wreck” quality, where every scene has you biting your nails, saying oh no, oh no, oh no. And it’s not because it’s high on action. In fact, most of the action takes place in relatively serene settings indoors, such as parlor rooms, dining rooms, and bedrooms. People talking, with only one fist-punch that I can remember. But it’s the escalation that had me hooked, hoping for a good outcome for the shy, insecure narrator.
This book is carefully crafted, swathed in atmosphere, and bursting with symbols and meaningful details. It’s a literary banquet. It’s hard to review the book without spoiling anything.
For a long time, I thought this book might be too scary for me. I thought it was more of a ghost story with paranormal whatsits flying around, but no. Even though there are eerie aspects, it wasn’t scary. And if I wasn’t scared, then nobody gonna be scared because I’m a wuss.
Even though this is a rather slim review (to avoid spoilers) you can grab my Rebecca book club guide and get everything you need to enjoy this classic.
Well, Andrew Klavan co-authors one of my all-time favorite Substacks (The New Jerusalem), and I’ve listened to him on podcasts and interviews, and I knew that he was a novelist. But I wasn’t quite sure where to start with his fiction. Audible helped me by offering this entry point as part of the Plus Catalog.
This is the first in a detective series featuring Cameron Winter, a shadowy man who is both lethal and literary. He has killed people in his earlier days (military? Spy work? We’re not sure), but now he’s a university English prof. Okay, I’m in!
This book introduces us to the classically handsome (and classically read) Cameron, but it leaves a lot of unanswered questions about who he is and what haunts him from his past. He’s lethal. He’s cool under pressure. But he’s also carrying some serious emotional baggage. He has what he calls “a strange habit of mind” in which he clears his head, opens himself to empathy, and then allows all of the pieces of whatever puzzle he’s trying to solve fall into place, and they just do. This “gift/habit” is mostly a mystery.
An old friend asks Cameron for a favor. Can he help her with a murder case? Ex-military boyfriend kills girlfriend in a jealous rage and then confesses to the crime. Nothing to solve. But the facts don’t add up. Something’s off. So, Cameron starts sniffing around.
This is a short book that does a great job of balancing plot and character. You get a handful of plot twists, but there’s a wide range to the cast, and nobody feels like a cardboard cutout. I’m here for book two!
Can your kids crack the case of who killed the Goblin King?
What a fun concept! The Goblin king has been poisoned, and 26 suspects are called to defend their innocence. Three are guilty of murder, but which three? The answer is encoded into the book.
One goblin for each letter of the alphabet. One short poem per goblin. One simple code to crack. This is a fun, interactive book for kids.
My 8-year-old had fun decrypting the code and solving the case. But I think he had more fun pouring over the illustrations of each goblin, which are so expressive and flawlessly executed, even though they’re presented as “courtroom sketches” and, as such, are done in rough, sketchy form. They’re so funny and original.
The code is easy to crack, so that will appeal to younger kids, but the poetry is advanced, which will appeal to older kids. It would be fun to use this book as part of a poetry exploration for our homeschool—using the author’s concept to write original short-form poetry with a mystery embedded.
A group of kids must escape a game-maker’s library in order to win the grand prize
This was our last read-aloud for the school year. I selected it because I hoped it would be a fun, exciting story to start the summer. My boys did enjoy it, but I was a tad underwhelmed.
I must say, though, that the ending made up for what I thought was a snoozy middle.
When I finished reading the last couple of chapters, my boys (7 and 8 years old) were literally jumping and rolling off the couch and around the carpet. All the tension and excitement they were feeling was manifesting in these funny physical gyrations, and it was hilarious to watch.
The story premise is great. An eccentric game-maker, Luigi Lemoncello, has built a state-of-the-art library in his childhood hometown, and he invites twelve 12-year-olds to a lock-in at the library. The next morning, they opt into an epic game to “escape” the library and win fame and fortune as Lemoncello spokes-kids.
The clues and puzzles were excellent. I felt like they were difficult enough to warrant the fanfare surrounding the game event. The only thing, though, was that SO much went over my boys’ heads. As the adult, I caught all the allusions and Easter eggs, and I wanted to explain them to my boys, but I refrained, haha.
I felt like the writing and the characters were on the weaker side. Granted, this is a plot-driven adventure story, but I was expecting a bit more in the character department. That would’ve helped support the middle of the novel, which dragged for me.
There wasn’t much “there” there, even for our hero, Kyle. The most interesting character is Charles because he’s a worthy villain, who tries to weasel and fake his way to the top. It’s good to see him taken down a notch—my boys loved it—but he’s also something of a caricature.
If each character could’ve displayed more internal conflict, our interest would’ve skyrocketed. There’s one point at which Kyle is tempted to play video games instead of help his team look for clues, and after a quick pause, he resists the temptation. Had the characters had grown and changed to a greater degree, the book would’ve had more to offer.
Also, the grand prize (being a Lemoncello spokesperson) seemed a little strange. I would not wish fame on these poor kids!
I love Andrew Clements, but this was not a favorite for me or my boys. The book came with our homeschool curriculum, and it sounded intriguing—”two mysteries in one,” says the cover. I think that skewed my expectations. I was anticipating something heavy on clues, puzzles, twists, and gasps.
But this book was very quiet and unassuming. The drama is small, just like the town of Plattsford, Nebraska, where the story is set. The main character, Ted, is a sixth-grader who stumbles upon a family squatting in an abandoned farmhouse, and he does what he can to help them.
The book has gold-standard values, I will give it that. But, everyone in the book seemed to be on his/her best behavior. It would’ve been interesting to have a mischief-maker or a bad guy in the mix to liven things up. There wasn’t enough conflict for me.
The climax of the story is a huge bust—and it’s supposed to be. This made for some interesting discussion. My boys and I were rooting for a magical ending where everyone cheers and the kids hug and the parents cry while the soundtrack swells to a crescendo. The book deliberately bursts your bubble. Asking “WHY?” is a good exercise for kids.
Overall, though, I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone who is looking for a page-turner to keep the interest of a reluctant reader. Good but not great.
When a collection of strange items is stolen from an international boarding house, Poirot takes an interest in solving the puzzle.
Hercule Poirot is my favorite fussy detective. And Hugh Fraser did a fantastic job of narrating the audiobook version of this novel. It was everything I wanted in a Christie book, and it was a quick win for me, but it just wasn’t my favorite Christie book.
We start with a boarding house filled with 20-somethings from all over the globe. An odd collection of things go missing. Some turn up again. Some are destroyed. Then, people are in danger… What starts off as a puzzle turns into more.
I like the stage: an international boarding house, which is basically like a college dorm full of students from different countries, different backgrounds, and different worldviews. I liked the varied cast of characters, although I can see how they might not sit right in today’s tiptoe political climate. I like Poirot because he’s old-fashioned, and so am I. That’s why I like Mma. Ramotswe, too. There’s a tension between modern ways and old ways, and there’s something inside me that loves to see the old ways win, but not from a pulpit.
The plot was good, but it wasn’t gripping. The characters were what made this book enjoyable for me. I would’ve liked a little MORE Poirot here, actually. His police colleague, Detective Sharp, (I may have the name wrong) got just as much page time, although he’s not as entertaining as my Belgian.
Content warnings: Nothing graphic, but people die and plot, as you’d expect. Some mention of opiate use and the mishandling of drugs. One character has a drinking problem.
When a young spy needs to redeem herself in her boss’s eyes, she finds herself tested in twisty ways
I needed something different. I saw that this popular thriller was high on twists and low on sex and violence, so I gave it a try. I’m NOT much for thrillers, but about once a year, I’ll pick one up. I never seem to love them, so take my review with a grain of salt.
Here’s what appealed to me: I knew this was going to be a plot-driven book. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of character arc, and, turns out, there wasn’t much of one. The plot was interesting and did deliver some twists and turns that I enjoyed and didn’t see coming. It was fast-paced and short. A nice palate cleanser.
I could’ve done with MORE character, especially from the lead.
I won’t spoil the end, but…I had issues with the note it ended on. It didn’t have good resonance, even though it is discussable.
Content warnings: The book didn’t rely on graphic scenes for shock and awe. So, no graphic violence or sex. The main character is living with a man. Some deaths occur. There was the usual foul language that you’d expect, but it was moderate—not minimal but not everywhere. Of course, this is a worldly book, so it comes with, well, worldliness.
By J.I. Wagner Translated by Tracy Phua Illustrated by Cindy Foehlich
Character
Plot & Pacing
Writing Craft
Moral Value
At the end of each short chapter, there’s a clue to solve that moves you a step closer to uncovering a mystery.
That made me curious enough to give this book a try with my 7- and 8-year-olds. They have short attention spans, so we read one to two chapters per day, and we had fun solving the little clues. Some were easy and satisfying, but others were tough enough to flex our mental muscles.
The story is written from the POV of Timmi Tobbson, average kid. He has two friends, Lilli and Marvin. One summer day, they realize they need to help save Lilli’s grandpa’s house from getting repo’ed. This leads them on a wild goose chase through many crazy locations in their historic town.
The fun thing about the clues is that you must look closely at the illustrations that appear at the end of each chapter, and those pictures give you clues to help you answer the accompanying “clue question.”
The concept of this book is just wonderful. The clues and illustrations are very well done. The writing and story elements were not quite as strong. We do have the second and third books in the series, so my boys will see how the series unfolds if they choose to read these independently. I won’t be continuing the series as a read-aloud.
